Chase the Whale Along the Run
by KC-Chick
Summary: What if Craig had confirmed his acceptance to U of T? [Craig.Ellie][OneShot]


Disclaimer: Not mine.

Some inspirational credit and a big thank you goes to **moirariordan** whose writing inspired this for one reason or another.

--

What if Craig had confirmed his acceptance to U of T?

--

"You're dead, you're _so_ dead," he smirks at me.

"No chance in hell, Manning," I retort, sticking my tongue out.

"Oh, this is war."

"What, for nearly spilling ketchup on your oh-so-prized jacket?" I scoff. "Please."

"I was wearing this when The Kid performed his farewell show! You are _not_ getting anything on it."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever Mr. I'm Five Years Old."

"You know you'd murder me if I ever got anything on your journalism notebook."

"That's because I actually do _work_ in that. You know something you might wanna try someday."

"I work!" He defends. Pathetically I may add.

"Yes. Let's see… You work the skanks around campus and you're guitar… anything I'm missing?"

He opens his mouth to retort and then closes it.

I raise an eyebrow. "Ha."

"What? Am I suddenly the school tramp?"

I cough. "Manwhore."

"Excuse me?"

"Man. Whore," I repeat. "Not tramp."

"Hey, I've been on the rebound okay? Had to get my game back."

I try and muffle a laugh.

"What, Ms. Nash, is _so_ funny?"

"Nothing." I pipe down. "Nothing at all."

"No. No. No. You're not getting out of this one. What?"

"I'm trying to refrain from telling you I told you so. But what the hell? I told you so."

"Told me what?"

"About Miss Slut Bag…" I mutter under my breath.

"What, Elle?"

"Oh excuse me, Slut Bags, I meant."

"What on earth are you talking about?" he inquires innocently.

"What was her name? The brunette one? Bridgett? And the one before that? Haley?"

"Hilary," he corrects.

"Whatever, I can't keep track anymore. Let's just say, you don't have the most… wholesome reputation."

"Wait, what?" he inquires again. He's in a state of shock.

"Craig, you could make a calendar of girls you've messed with this year."

"Could not!"

"Oh, you're right. The year doesn't have twenty months. My mistake."

"_Twenty_?! God, no. It hasn't been twenty… has it?"

"More or less," I confirm. "Craig, can you even remember their names?"

He pauses a sec.

"Of course I can! There was Jamie, then Linda, Madison, Gwen… No maybe Gwen was before Madison. But it was Linda who had the great legs so maybe she was after Madi— Hey, where are you going?" he asks, realizing by now that I've begun to gather my stuff.

"I got bored at 'great legs'."

"Jealous?" he smirks.

"With these babies, no," I smirk back.

"Good point," he agrees, giving me a look. "You know," he begins, etching closer. "I never have dated an Ellie."

"And you never will," I retort. "Not this one, anyway. Especially since now you've made me late for class with your useless naming of women. God." I jump out of the chair and shove my books in my bag.

I swing my messenger bag over my shoulder and see Craig watching me.

"What?" I ask. "Do I have snot on my face?"

"No," he answers quietly.

"Then, what?"

"Nothing."

"Craig, you're making me more late than usual!" I whine. God I sound like a certain short brunette we all know.

"What, nothing is stopping you from leaving."

He has a point.

"Whatever, take a picture, it'll last longer."

He gives me another glance over.

"Maybe I will."

"Ass."

"I love you, too."

--

"See, everything worked out fine! You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" I snort. "For what? Being a continual pain in the ass?"

"If I hadn't 'made you late' as you claim, you would've been stuck out in Toronto rain for a good ten minutes while you waited for your professor to unlock the door."

I open my mouth to retort but then shut it quickly. I had nothing.

I see the grin creep up on his face.

"Ha. Admit it."

"Never."

"Do it. You know you want to."

"Not even under torture."

"I'm right…"

"So not," I snort.

"So am."

"Whatever. _So_ beside the point. The point is, my paper wasn't late _and_ I got an A-, which, by Professor Felt's standards, is like a whole new letter for grading, or something."

"Impressive, Nash. Care to celebrate, then?"

I raise an eyebrow. Celebrate? What sort of celebration did Mr. Manning have in mind?

"Celebrate, how?"

"Maybe go out… clubbing?"

I laugh. Out loud. Hard.

Me? In a _club_? Funny. Really funny.

"Clubbing? Me? Craig, could you imagine?"

"Yes," he answers simply.

"Perv," I glare.

"Come _on_, Ellie! Please?" he begs.

"No. Never. It's way too trashy."

"Okay, then let's compromise."

"I'm listening."

"No, 'trashy' hip-hop club. How about, like an indie café instead?"

Ah, now he had my interest.

"Indie café? Go on."

"You know. Some coffee, an unknown artist on stage…"

I feel a smile creep on my face.

"Could that be a yes, Miss Nash?"

"Gimme twenty minutes to change."

He flashes his smile at me.

"Okay."

--

Twenty minutes later I find myself in comfortable jeans, black Converse, and a shirt that's black, long sleeved, but was cut in more of a v-shape at the neckline and was more off the shoulder. My silver hoop necklace accessorizes the outfit.

As I walk out I see Craig came back from his own apartment a few doors down.

"Nice, Nash," he compliments.

"Not so bad yourself, Manning," I return. He's wearing dark-wash jeans and his leather jacket over a simple green t-shirt.

I feel my cheeks get red. Damn.

"Should we go?" I ask. And hope he hasn't noticed my face change to the color of my hair.

"Yep."

He and I both reach for the door handle at the same time, and our hands brush.

"No, go ahead," I begin.

"No, you."

We both reach for it again, and finally, Craig opens the door.

"Thanks, I stammer," as we both venture outside into the crisp, Toronto air.

--

"We're walking?" I question.

"It's only two blocks. I'm sure your comfy feet can handle it."

I nod.

It's early September, and the new semester is about a quarter in. Craig and I are both in our sophomore year.

Craig of course chose music as his major, while me, journalism.

I've dating some, but nothing lasting. Marco still insists that I'm madly in love with Craig. Which is so _not_ the case. We're just friends, and it ends there. My little crush in high school meant nothing.

Though there are times when I wonder what if we did happen? But of course, that's silly. And his 'just friends' look he gives me everyday is confirmation enough.

"Earth to Ellie," I hear, and see Craig's hands wave in my face.

"Sorry, what? I must've spaced out."

"We're here."

And so we are. The café is called Greenhouse Effect. Quaint.

We walk in through jingling doors to immediately smell the aroma of coffee and something sweet. Chocolate, I suspect. Mmm…

A small stage is located over to the side. Couches, bean bags, and squishy looking arm chairs surround the stage, and sit all around the small café as well.

I already like it.

We both pick a sofa placed in the corner of the shop and sit down. The place is mostly lit by scented candles, which add a unique scent to the place.

"Coffee?" Craig asks, as I settle into the soft couch.

"Mmm yes, please. Vanilla hazelnut with skim milk."

"Coming up," he grins, and returns shortly with two steaming mugs. I accept mine gratefully.

"Thanks."

He grins again. "Not a problem."

We settle into a comfortable silence, and listen to the guy playing guitar. He's young, about mine and Craig's age I guess. He wears a beanie and a denim jacket, and the way he strums the acoustic guitar, you can really tell he loves it. Reminds me of Craig, sorta. Same look in his eye.

"I really needed this, thanks," I begin, and pat Craig on the knee.

What the hell? Did I just do that?

His knee tenses a bit to my touch, as though not expecting it, but then relaxes.

"No big. Figured, figured we both did, you know? What with school and all…" he stammers.

Did I just make him nervous?

I nod and take my hand away, but Craig takes it, and puts it back. I don't protest. We sit like that for a while, just listening to the music, and for once in a long time, I feel like that's exactly where I need to be.

Eventually, he brings his hand to mine and intertwines our fingers and again, I don't protest.

--

"Elle…Ellie…wake up…" I hear faintly, and then my eyes flutter open.

"Huh?" I manage to say, feeling groggy.

"You fell asleep," a voice informs me, and I realize that it's Craig's.

I look around and see that we're still in the coffee shop, and I've been sleeping on Craig's shoulder for the past hour.

"Oh God! I'm so sorry!"

How embarrassing and awkward.

"No, don't worry," he assures me.

Probably just being nice about it. I hope there's no drool on his shoulder… not that I normally drool, but you never know…

In my panic, I failed to realize that not only are our fingers still intertwined, but that he draped his jacket over me while I was sleeping.

"Craig?"

"Hmm?"

"Your jacket…"

"What about it?"

"There's some coffee spilt on it."

God, now he was going to hate me.

"I know," he answers simply.

I raise an eyebrow.

"But you said you'd kill me if anything ever got on it," I point out.

He looks me straight in the eye.

"You're worth it, Nash."

"I am?"

Is he really saying what I think he's saying, or am I still dreaming?

He nods.

"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" I inquire.

"Dunno," he shrugs. "You looked so peaceful and you were smiling. I didn't wanna wreck whatever it was making you so happy."

"Oh…"

"But, it's almost midnight Elle, and I think you've got a test tomorrow," he reminds me.

Shit. He's right.

"C'mon, I'll call us a cab."

--

Ten minutes later we are back at my apartment, in my living room.

"I think I'd better go," he whispers in the stillness. "You need your sleep."

As he walks to my door, I realize, I want him to stay.

"No, Craig. Stay."

He shoots me a surprised look. I take his hand and lead him into my bedroom.

"Just sleep by me, okay?" I request. God I don't even know what I'm doing… but it feels right.

He nods, and I kick off my Converse and climb into my bed. He climbs in next to me and spoons his body to mine.

He's warm, and for the first time I feel completely secure.

His chest rises and falls with each breath and it's that moment that I know, Marco is completely right. I'm in love with this boy.

So I do the only thing I can think of.

I kiss him.

He seems surprised by my gesture, and so am I, really.

But our lips connecting sends shivers down my spine, and a new sensation I'd never felt before.

I kiss him like I've been waiting to my entire life. And part of me kind of knows I have been.

We stop at kissing. It could have gone farther, and hey it probably will. But I'm just too tired.

So instead, we spoon again, and his strong arms wrap around my waist and I'm half surprised at how well we fit and the other half knew it all along.

I feel him lick my earlobe playfully, and I giggle as I doze off feeling completely safe, secure, and happy in his embrace.

Craig feels my body loosen in his and whispers a song in my ear.

_I fly too close to the sun…_

_I chase the whale along the run…_

--

Wow, long!

I wanted to give them a relationship without all the baggage the show has, so I wrote Craig and Ellie just being, existing together. This was something I really had to get out of my system. I hope the simplicity worked. Let me know.


End file.
